


As I Run, You Burn

by Thevaen



Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Parenting!Bagginshield, The Last of Us AU, The hurt of parents and children getting royally fucked over, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevaen/pseuds/Thevaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin never looks afraid. He always looks angry. His eyes shoot fire. It's a hot blazing anger, but it doesn't scare them. Fili and Kili in particular seem to get strength from it. They mimic him, and Thorin knows this. He vowed to never look afraid in front of his nephews. He never breaks his vows.</p><p>Till death do us apart.</p><p>Never, not in his worst nightmares, had Bilbo considered this to be one of the many possible hands of Death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As I Run, You Burn

**Author's Note:**

> I originally meant to write this for the Bagginshield Alphabet, but hit a massive block. I have very little experience in angst, so tips are welcome. If you find any spelling or grammar errors PLEASE point them out so I can fix them.

They were cold.  
  
He couldn't feel his fingers. He'd given his last pair of gloves, worn and fingerless but still far better than nothing, to Frodo. He couldn't feel his feet, but did feel the biting cold against his face. Even now he was aware of the constant twinge of pain in his chapped lips that never got the chance to heal. Even with the adrenaline rushing through his veins, he was aware of everything his body was fighting against.  
  
The cold. The hunger. The pain. The fear.

''Come on Frodo!''  
  
The boy held on to his hand with more strength he would have thought him capable of still having. The boy was always stronger than he thought him to be. He drew his own strength from him. Had he not had Frodo he would have surely given up. He fought for Frodo, he endured and feigned strength he no longer possessed. It was only fear that drove him now.  
  
''The door won't budge!''  
  
He looked up, at Fili and Kili kicking and slamming against the door with all their might. Behind him Thorin slammed the door shut. ''Kili! Help me block this.''  
  
Bilbo looked around, hastily looking for another way out. He tried to think, tried not to give in to the paralyzing fear. But with Fili's fear shining in his eyes despite his furious bashing, with Kili mumbling pleas to no one in particular that they make it, with Frodo's hand trembling in his...or was it his own hand? He could not tell.  
  
''Up there!''  
  
He whirled his head to where Frodo was pointing, to a small window in the top corner of the room. His guts churned, because right away it was clear that Frodo was the only one small enough to fit through. He turned, not even sure what the look in his own eyes must be as he seeks Thorin's.  
  
Thorin never looks afraid. He always looks angry. His brows furrowed together and his hair wild and untamed, unwashed. He can't remember the last time they washed their hair.

His eyes shoot fire. It's a hot blazing anger, but it doesn't scare them. Fili and Kili in particular seem to get strength from it. They mimic him, and Thorin knows this. He vowed to never look afraid in front of his nephews. He never breaks his vows.  
  
_Till death do us apart._

Never, not in his worst nightmares, had Bilbo considered this to be one of the many possible hands of Death.  
  
But Thorin's fire wakens his own and before he walks to the corner he crouches down and grabs Frodo firmly by the shoulders.  
  
''Frodo boy, listen to me. If you can't get the door open, I need you to run.''  
  
''Wh-''  
  
''No debating this. If I tell you to run, you run. Understand?'' He talks  just above a whisper, because he needs to tell this, he needs Frodo to understand and listen. Fili and Kili are strong, but they are children, and should they hear they _will_ panic. They would object and demand that he can't leave them. He prays Frodo won't have to.  
  
Frodo nods and Bilbo summons the strength to smile. ''There's my boy, now come.'' He taps him and they dash to the corner and Bilbo lifts him the best he can. Thorin is next to him in an instant and takes the job from him and when Bilbo turns around he sees Thorin and Kili managed to dump what must have once been lockers in front of the iron door. When he turns back around he sees Frodo's feet disappear and hears the soft thud of his landing.

A screech.  
  
It's not Frodo's. Or any of theirs. It's never theirs, they never scream. Thorin hurries over to his nephews, shields them instinctively as if what's out there is already in the room with them. Bilbo swings off his backpack and stuffs it through the window. He looks away instantly when Thorin's eyes meet his.  
  
There is a sudden crash heard in the distance, but not far enough. It was never far enough. More screeches follow, screeches so loud and so high it hurts his ears. The door jitters and opens, and Thorin and his nephews fall through. Had the situation been different it would have been amusing.  
  
''The key was still in it.'' Frodo states, almost a matter of factly, and it almost works to lighten the mood. Almost.  
  
More things crash, the screeches grow louder and then the door Thorin and Kili had barricaded bulks with a loud sound of protest as something, _things_ , crash against it. Screams of protest, the sound of claws and nails against steel and wood.  
  
''Let's lock it again.'' Bilbo breathes and he takes the key from him, slams the door shut and locks it.

They break into a run just as they hear the splintering of wood and the sound of metal scraping against concrete.  
  
  
They're in what he thinks used to be a school. He doesn't know, doesn't bother to figure out where they are as much as he tries to search for a safe way out. They run through a hall, trying to be silent yet fast, but those are two things hard to combine. They hear more of them. They click and screech and scream, and Bilbo feels the urge to do the same become bigger and bigger. He's terrified.  
  
He's been afraid before, of course he has. But this was different. This crippling fear he had not yet experienced, and he can't shake of the feeling of dread he experiences on top of this.

They run around a corner, time and time again. There seems to be no end to the building. They struggle, because while his and Thorin's legs are long and strong, the children's are short, and they're exhausted. More than once Thorin physically lifts one of the boys, and had the world not been the way it was it would have made them squeal from delight.  
  
'' _Higher!''_  
  
The memory is brief, but vivid. He squeezes Frodo's hand.  
  
When they hit the next corner they stop. It's a dead end, and it's occupied.  
  
The wall at the end of the hall is a mess, and covered in its rubble there's a car. From the windows hang the lifeless bodies of the people in it, and over and around them they swarm. They moan, click, scratch at their eyes and bite down on flesh.  
  
The sharp smell of urine hits his nose. He doesn't have to look down to know it's Frodo, he doesn't even think anything about it. They haven't seemed to noticed them yet, and Thorin turns on his heels as softly as he can. He pushes his finger to his lips and gestures for them to go.  
  
They walk, don't run. At the other end there's a another dead end, but there's a door, and their only hope is that it isn't locked, and doesn't screech.  
  
Thorin walks behind him. He places his hand on his back, but it's trembling. Bilbo looks at him. His raven hair sticks to every part of him.

* * *

  
  
'' _I love watching you braid your hair you know that?''_  
  
_''Hmm?'' He takes the hand that holds the braid and kisses it. ''Is that why you always interrupt me when I try to?''_

* * *

  
  
Thorin's hand moves and grabs his to squeeze it briefly. Then he let's go, of him and Fili. He visibly struggles to step away from them, and he hesitates to open the door. But there's no choice, not in this life. He opens it just a few inches. They all hold their breath, try to distinguish new sounds from the old. The clicks at the other side of the hall echo against the walls, the screeches from far behind seem to come from all around them. Thorin slowly opens the door further, bit by bit. He hesitates to use his flashlight, and when he does he aims at the ground first then searches the wall. It seems to take forever to go inside, inch by inch.

 

He's gotten so scared of the dark. They proceed by moving close to the wall. They don't dare touch it though, of fair of what they can feel. It smells like blood and piss, of decay. But they're alone, and that itself gives them the courage they need to go further, step by step.  
  
There's light coming from the other side of the room; another door, slightly open and ajar. When Thorin opens it it creaks, and he takes a short pause before he opens it far enough in one quick and short jerk. The creaking is minimal, and as they wait and nothing happens they allow themselves one short sigh of relief.  
  
There's more light now, enough to see that they are in part of a storage or supply room. The light comes from a set of small windows, similar like the one they found earlier. Through it he can see grass, but he feels no relief or happiness. They're bigger, but not big enough, and the dread sets itself once more.  
  
They boys only see the grass though. They've learned not to beam with sound, but even in the limited light Bilbo can see the ecstatic glimmer in their eyes. When he looks at Thorin's, he sees nothing.

* * *

  
  
_''They're so blue.''_  
  
_''What?''_  
  
_''Your eyes. They shine like gems.''_

* * *

  
  
He blinks his tears away. Thorin walks past him, doesn't touch him. He only sets to lifting any object that blocks the way to the window and moving it to block the door in the previous room. He looks at the windows. They're quite high, the boys will need them to get through. And when all is moved, they will need to smash them.  
  
He starts to take of his coat. He'll drape it through. Make sure the boys don't cut themselves. He squats down and gently tugs at Frodo's sleeve. ''Come boy, let's change your trousers.''  
  
While Frodo struggles to step out of them, bracing himself on Bilbo's shoulder, he goes through his backpack and gets out the pair he washed a week ago in the stream. He helps the boy hoist them up. The wet pair he rolls up and stuffs it in the bag so it can be washed next time they find a stream.  
  
Thorin squats down next to him. He looks at Frodo. ''You're growing out of them so fast.'' He whispers. ''You're going to be taller than your father.''  
  
Frodo steps closer, wraps his arm around Thorin's neck.  
  
''Which one?'' Frodo whispers, and this time Bilbo does see something in Thorin's eyes.  
  
They widen, and then he clenches them shut; Pulls Frodo close and almost crushes him. His brows furrow together, tremble even, and one of his hands moves to his face. He rubs is eyes angrily, and it's only because Bilbo sits so close that he can see the glimmer of tears on his thumb. When he sees Thorin's shoulder shake he has to look away.  
  
Fili and Kili are trying to peek out the window. Fili holds his brother close, and Kili clenches his brother's hand with the strength of a grown man. ''Boys.'' Bilbo whispers, and when they turn he sees no more of the excitement.  
  
''Come here.''  
  
They all huddle together. When Thorin let's go he is quick to turn Frodo to sit with his back against his chest, and Bilbo makes Fili and Kili sit so that they can't see his face. They draw in the dust and dirt in front of them. With rubble they mark borders and homes and in whispers they make up castles and stories of the people that live in them. Behind the boys their back, Thorin's hand find Bilbo's. He refuses to let go, even if Bilbo has to move. For a while, there is nothing but them, and they have this brief moment of safety and feigned happiness.  
  
It's a sudden shift in the air, when they finally get up. The boys aren't stupid, they sense something is off. But either don't understand or don't want to acknowledge. He doesn't blame them.  
  
''Have you found something to break it with?'' Bilbo whispers.  
  
Thorin nods. ''Found a brick. Everyone ready?''  
  
They all nod. ''Fili, we'll get you through first. Then Kili, and you two help Frodo through.'' Bilbo says. ''Understood?'' They nod again.  
  
It seems like the world around them moves faster than them by tenfold. Once the glass shatters it feels as if every creature must be on high alert, even though they hear nothing. Thorin runs the brick along the edges, trying to get every sticking out piece of glass as fast as he can. There's a cut along the length of his arm. He almost snatches Bilbo's coat from his hands and without Bilbo having needed to voice what he intended it for he drapes it over the edge.  
  
Bilbo's arms are shaking, and he's positive it's almost entirely Thorin's strength that lifts Fili. The blonde is the tallest, but he's not as clumsy as his brother and goes through without much trouble. Kili follows soon and he almost kicks Bilbo in the face in their rush to get him through. Together they help pull Frodo through. Bilbo hands the bag through the window, and suddenly it's him and Thorin on this side. He doesn't know which side is safest.  
  
Suddenly he's lifted from the ground, almost knocks his head against the beam supporting the ceiling. Thorin's arms feel strong around his frame.

* * *

  
  
_''I asked to borrow a ladder.'' Bilbo stammers, blushing and struggling to twist the light bulb out of its socket. His shirt has ridden up, and he feels Thorin's breath tickling his skin._  
  
_''This works too doesn't it?'' Thorin answers, and he kisses the exposed skin._

* * *

 

He clenches harder around him.

Bilbo's hands hit the grass, and the boys immediately grab his wrist and pull. His face and shoulder come through, with some twisting. But he feels the frame of the window hit his hips. He almost panics and starts trashing, but there's a hand on his bottom that squeezes him and despite the situation he laughs. The boys pull and Thorin pushes while he twists and uses one arm to push against the frame.  
  
''And to think I've lost quite some weight.'' He jokes, but no one laughs, and he feels the tremble in his voice. He winces as the wooden frame scrapes his skin.  
  
The boys look more afraid by the second. He can see Frodo's eyes water. Fili is the only one who is able to still keep an eye on their surroundings. Frodo lets out a sob. ''Frodo my boy, look at me. Not at my bum, me. That's my boy.''  
  
He opens his mouth to say more, but suddenly it happens. He flinches as he feels his jeans tear and a stray piece of glass cut his skin, but suddenly he's through, and he notices nothing else but the relief on their faces.  
  
Of course it only lasts mere seconds.  
  
Thorin looks at them. He makes no effort to climb up. His skin is damp from sweat. The gash above his eye from earlier that day is clotted with dried blood. He stares at Bilbo, and after a few seconds a soft smile starts playing on his lips.  
  
Bilbo is not having it.  
  
''Right.'' He lies down on his tummy and looks inside, everywhere but Thorin. ''We lost our axe, but let's find something else to break or cut the frame with. All we need is a few inches more-''  
  
''Bilbo.''  
  
''Don't look at me you oaf, there, that crowbar.''  
  
Thorin doesn't move. ''Thorin, hand me the crowbar.''  
  
He doesn't realize how hard his hands are trembling until Thorin takes them. His hands are warm around his. The matching rings they wear glimmer in the dimmed light.  
  
''Come on.'' Bilbo whispers. He begs with his eyes, lest the boys hear the terror in his voice. But Thorin only shakes his head.  
   
He can't say more. Kili screams, and Bilbo hits his head on the frame as he whirls around.  
  
The used to be person latches on to the boy, pins him down and starts to grab at him. Fili tries to push him off, but it's the body of an adult, and it's way too strong. Frodo starts crying, almost tries to crawl back inside as he tries to get away.

It's a nasty sound, the sound of a head breaking apart and blood splattering against a wall. The terror in their eyes and the sight of skin tearing and nothing but red will be burned in his vision. The guilt in his guts, the shaking of his hand. The smell of gunpowder.  
  
Kili wails as Fili pushes the body off his brother and wraps his arm around him. The boy is covered in blood and gore, but it's not his. It's the only consolation they'll get. The fingers of the infected still twitch, but there's life no more, as far as there had been. Bilbo shakes his hand, tosses the gun in the grass.  
  
''Kili.'' The boy is in his arms the moment he first sound of his name leaves his lips, and Thorin's arms are stuck through the window to hold them both.  
  
''You're okay, You're okay.'' Thorin keeps telling him, stroking his hair in short and frantic movements. Even now he doesn't sound scared, despite the slight tremble in his voice. Kili keeps sobbing uncontrollably, and Frodo is hiccupping through his. But it's not the only sound.  
  
''Thorin.'' He pauses ''Thorin!'' He repeats louder when he receives no answer.  
  
''I know!'' He sneers, latches onto him. ''Fili!'' The blonde crawls down, and he pulls him as close as he can. ''Get Kili and go. You know the way to Balin better than Bilbo does.''  
  
''What? No-'' Fili and Kili open their mouth, but Thorin interrupts them. ''GO!'' He booms.  
  
''Thorin, get the crowbar.'' Bilbo turns to him, trying his hardest to ignore the screeches he hears in the background and the sobs behind him.  
  
''Head south, you're almost there.'' He leans forward, presses their forehead together through the window. He holds on to Bilbo with a grip so tight it's painful, but Bilbo wants nothing more than for the him no never let go. The door in the other room rattles with a loud bash.  
  
''Thorin get me the crowbar _now._ ''  
  
''Thorin.'' Frodo tries to crawl back inside, and both are forced to let go of each other with one hand to keep him out. ''Frodo be a big boy. I need you to make Fili and Kili listen.'' Thorin says. Fili places his hand on Frodo's shoulder. There's another bang of the door, and Bilbo reaches behind him. ''Take the gun.''  
  
His neck is forced to arch painfully as Thorin leans up to kiss him. It's chaste, but with a force behind it that's enough to push him back when they break apart.  
  
''Thorin.'' He whispers.  
  
''Dad.'' Frodo sniffs, sobs, and again Thorin almost breaks. He can only press their foreheads together briefly when the sound of the door breaking out of its hinges and the screeches of those behind it reaches them.  
  
''Go!''  
  
''Frodo, fr-''  
  
Frodo latches on, cries out. He trashes, and from their angle he's too much. ''Fili, Kili help!'' Bilbo commands. They do, through their tears and own protest, but god bless them they do. Thorin pushes them away, scrambles to get one last touch of Bilbo. One last caress of skin. He grabs his hand and holds it to his face. ''Get home.'' Bilbo sobs as Thorin kisses the torn skin on his knuckles.  
  
The last barricade breaks, as wood and boxes fall over. It's in the last few seconds that the only thing Bilbo can do is run and force the boys ahead of him. Force them to look ahead instead of back. Shout to them so they will not be forced to hear anything beside his voice and their own. He clenches their shoulders as they run and run, vision blurred and minds racing and heart breaking, shattering more and more with each step.  
  
Everything feels cold. But in his right hand, clenched in a fist against Frodo's shoulder, Thorin's ring burns.  
 

**Author's Note:**

> ಥ⌣ಥ


End file.
